My parents gave each of their children a tree ornament every Christmas. Their idea was for us to take our ornaments when we moved on.
That happened – and more. As adults, we still each got a new ornament every year. I now have dozens, too many to choose favorites.
If pushed to choose, I’d name none of them. I’d pick Mom’s favorite.
Tinsel. Just tinsel.
Simple, single, silver strands of tinsel.
Mom loved the stuff. I hear her still, in my mind’s ear, exhorting us to fling ever more onto the tree. And, while we don’t often use tinsel today, it’s my favorite on this, the second Christmas since Mom died.
Maybe it can this season remind us all that Christmas is as much about that – memory – as about meaning.
For memory is its own kind of meaning. Emotional meaning. Meaning that succeeds where a book or ecclesiastical authority never will.
Memory’s meaning exceeds the bounds of reason, embracing us where we feel, connecting us like those tough little strands of tinsel to the people we love and have loved.
Merry Christmas from years past
Also for 2023: A Christmas wish
2022: A toothbrush Christmas
2021: Bless the baby. Bless us all.
2020: A Christmas blessing
We used to drape that silver tinsel as the last layer of decoration in our tree. Mom would remind we three boys nit to throw it in bunches but to use strands. Alas we mostly failed because of our impatience. Merry Christmas.!
Ahhh, a memory like mine. May you and yours have a blessed day, Steve.
This is so sweet. I love your point about memory being as powerful as meaning – eloquently said. Great post!
Thank you, Savannah!